


Disgusting

by SupaKawaiiDesu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (fear of contamination and germs), Angst, Comfort/Angst, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mysophobia, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, mysophobic Levi, psychotherapist Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupaKawaiiDesu/pseuds/SupaKawaiiDesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is mentally ill. His greatest fear is it to become infected with bacteria. Repeated hand washing and gloves preserve him from the worst, or so he thinks. As one day his co-worker has an accident and he can't help them because he's disgusted, he wants to change. And so Levi gets to know the psychotherapist Eren Yeager, who didn't only help his co-worker but with whom he also builds a bond of trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disgusting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own Attack on Titan nor Ten Count, the manga by Rihito Takarai which this fanfiction is pretty heavily based on. I love this story to death, same with aot, so I thought 'Why not both?' (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

Levi’s PoV

Everything in this world is filthy. The slippers, the telephone receiver, the door handle, the straps in a train. The air when other people are present.

It’s heavy. I have difficulties breathing.

Although that doesn’t mean I’m suffocating. If I don’t want to touch something, I simply don’t have to. I’m living. Completely without problems.

It’s rush hour on a Friday evening as Hange and I walk home through Tokyo, a day like any other. I’m not really enjoying their company since they’re absolutely annoying and I’m already as exhausted as per usual after another long day at work. Sure, I could be at my apartment thirty minutes sooner if I’d take the subway, but there are too many sweaty, sick people on far too little space even when it’s not rush hour. Disgusting.

And since Hange’s apartment is only a block down from mine, they’re insisting we’re going home together. As long as they press every damn signal button of the far too many lights we pass I guess I couldn’t care less.

At the moment, we’re waiting ten foot away from the crowd that gathered around the light which is still red for the pedestrians. Usually Hange would skip through the people like a careless child that would run through falling snow in nothing but jeans and T-shirt, but after they noticed for the first time that I wouldn’t follow them even if my life depended on it, they stayed by my side without any question. Maybe they were just glad I accepted their pronouns without asking either. 

I would deny that they’re my only friend, but well. I’d lie if I’d say they didn’t grow on me.

“Eh, Levi? You’re coming or not?”

I look up and realize the light is green and most of the pedestrians are already on the other side. After my movement Hange is already hopping onto the street, clearly not noticing either the light that already became red nor the bike that dashes right towards her. 

“Hange, watch out!” I’m not that far behind, I’d actually be able to reach out to her and grab her just in time – but my gloved hand just won’t move forward, deterred by the sheer amount of germs on their back. It terrifies me, but I want to pull Hange to me so they won’t get hurt. To my horror, all my finger manage is flinching.

The biker doesn’t notice them until it’s too late.

\---

“The X-ray shows a fracture of your right kneecap. You were quite lucky under the circumstances. If the young man hadn’t reacted immediately, your condition would be much worse.” The doctor smiles, not at me, but at the brunet casually leaning against the wall. He looks nonchalant, bored even, not like he just saved a person’s life.

Hange, unable to sit still even after her right leg’s out of service, bounces with their left leg instead. “Your name was Eren Yeager, right?”

The brunet looks over at them, nodding.

“Please, let me do something for you!! I’d jump up and hug the life outta you-“

“They really would”, I interrupted with a snort.

“-but the doc said I shouldn’t move, so yeah. Name anything and I’ll make it up to you! At least give me your contact details, your number or something so we can talk about it.” They clap their hands together and looks at him puppy-style, making him laugh quietly.

“Ah, thanks, but it’s no big deal really. I’m glad I could help. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. Get well soon.” With that he’s turning around and goes into the hallway, leaving us dumbfounded.

For a moment, nobody moves or says anything until Hange snips her fingers in front of my face. My heart stops for a second before it beats thrice its normal pace and I can feel the outburst of cold sweat. The next thing I know I suppress the urge to slap her hand away, instead taking a hurried step back, my eyes widening as I realize what I’ve nearly done in my panic. I can feel the warmth in my cheeks at my reaction, but instead of a funny look there’s only concern in their eyes. 

“Please, Levi, give him at least my number or something before he leaves!!”

I nod stiffly and hurry after the man. As soon as I exit the room I see him waiting in front of the elevator. “Please wait!”

He turns around to me, expectantly raising his eyebrows. I fumble around with my business card while I walk towards him, finally stopping three foot in front of him. “I’m Levi Ackerman; Hange – that’s the person you’ve helped – is my co-worker and they will pester me forever if I won’t give you their number so they can thank you properly. So accepting my card so you can contact us would be also in my favor.” I explain while offering him the piece of paper with both of my hands.

He takes my card after a long look downwards, but his eyes flicker to the paper afterwards, too. What takes him so long? I thought he had already read it while I held it.

The man – Mr. Yeager is his name, I remember – looks down at me, with a certain expression in his eyes I can’t quite make out. 

“Do you suffer from Mysophobia?”

I look at him dumbfounded, my heart stuttering in my chest while he continues speaking like nothing happened, taking my silence as a positive answer.

“Seems very advanced to me. If you didn’t go to a doctor yet, I’d recommend seeking medical advice.” The elevator chimes and the doors open, but luckily nobody is inside. Mr. Yeager turns around to face it, but doesn’t move nonetheless. “And like I already said, there’s no need to thank me anymore.”

I could only stare at him. How did he …? How the _everliving fuck_ did he know I’m so terrified of germs and filthiness and touching anything not disinfected? We didn’t even know each other for twenty minutes and we’ve started talking to each other just now. “How…do you seem to know it’s ‘very advanced’?” 

He still doesn’t look at me. “Your gloves have blood stains. I think you have chapped hands because of too frequent hand washing.”

Oh, so that’s why he stared down for so long while taking my card. I interlace my fingers so the stains are no longer visible for him. Not as a sign of insecurity, of course. I’m not insecure, I’m _mad_ at him for bringing it up and making it obvious I’m not like all the others.

“I’m handling it, even without therapy”, I say curtly.

“When you treat it early enough you certainly could-“

“That’s none of your business!” I snap. He doesn’t wince but finally glances at me, once again with this sort of look in his eyes.

Damn it. Now he won’t contact us and Hange will strangle me because I fucked up. I clear my throat and look away, at the elevator, down the hallway, through the windows, anywhere but his eyes. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean to get loud. If you change your mind, please use the number on the business card, I’m sure something can be arranged.”

He stares at me for a second or two before humming approvingly and opening the doors of the elevator once again. I bow down a little until they close again, then I make my way back to Hange’s room. 

Unlike I thought, it’s not a day like any other; it’s a nerve-wracking one.

\---

I let the door shut behind me as I walk inside my apartment. I’m taking off my shoes, my jacket, my gloves, the latter being tossed into the garbage can while my other clothes wander into the hamper. My entrance hall might be small, but there’s a mirror and a sink in it, allowing me to wash my hands right away before I can touch anything in my apartment and spread any diseases I might bring home with me. My home means much to me, and I wouldn’t want any germs in it. It’s bad enough I’m surrounded by those repulsive things as soon as I take a step outside.

I disinfect my cell phone, watch, ballpoint and notebook before washing my hands once again and disinfecting them, too. It stings, because I actually do have chapped hands, just like the brunet said. I’m feeling guilty because I get the feeling he’s not going to contact us since I snapped at him like that. It’s the first time I did something like that towards a stranger. Usually, I’m just impassive and feel empty, but today, I’m not. Probably I am just being angry at myself, angry because I couldn’t reach out to Hange in that situation and pull them back so they wouldn’t have that accident with the biker. I was and still am repulsed by myself.

It’s true though that I think I’m handling it. I don’t need therapy, for me it’s normal living like that. But sometimes, on days like today, it suffocates me. 

_“When you treat it early enough you certainly could-“_

…I certainly could…breathe more easily?

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and especially comments are always appreciated! I will try to update it as soon as my [Ereri Advent Calendar series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/361574) is finished (~1-2 weeks), so bear with me plz.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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